


Colour of Sunrise (road trip au)

by strawberrybird



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: (lesser known cousin of everything is gay and nothing hurts), Alternate Universe - Road Trip, F/F, Mutual Pining, Not completely canon compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, canon swords and sorcery with modern influences like cars and starbucks, character backstory spoilers, gratuitous real life art references, no beta we die like Glenn, nothing of import happens and it's nice, the fic equivalent of 'i will eat all this chili and/or die trying', trojan horse of angst, very very gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-09-19 07:57:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20327737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberrybird/pseuds/strawberrybird
Summary: A road Trip. 5 weeks in a car. As much of Fodlàn as they could cram in, nothing with them but dust on open roads and fritzy radio signal.A road trip with Dorothea.Edelgard might just die.Road Trippin’





	1. Garreg Mach

**Author's Note:**

> I need you to know how close i came to naming this 'bye bye, miss adrestian pie" so, you know, you're welcome.  
I'm just here for some fandom nonsense <3 
> 
> eventually this will have spoilers for both Dorothea & Edie's backstories. also i plan to cover nothing mentioned in blue lions route bc i don't want to. crimson flower spoilers only.  
other thing to note is that in this fic, i state edelgard's sexuality as 'gay' as a cover-all. she's able to s-support both male and female characters, and im sure we're all quite aware of that if we're here. 'gay' for edelgard should be taken as the rainbow flag is irl - 'not straight' :)  
so! i'm looking forward to seeing where this goes :)  
  
Also i made a damn playlist for this fic. that's where i am, apparently. you can find it here! It's full of the songs referenced, and a mish-mash of the music from the two playlists mentioned. (I gave Edelgard my shit music taste)  
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5BA5VuLn8S9Uc7LU0p1TtU
> 
> _ You were the song stuck in my head / Every song I've ever loved ___ Favourite Record - Fall Out Boy

When Edelgard opened the door of her room, she wasn't surprised to see Dorothea Arnault standing on the other side of it. She was slightly more surprised to see her carrying a battered purple carry-all canvas bag, wearing dusty trainers and a mischievous grin on her face.

Actually, the grin wasn't all that unusual. Edelgard was fairly used to following that smile out the room, down the stairs to the common room, and into whatever mess the Eagles were in that day.

"So it's been the end of spring term for a good 20 hours already, and you've already done the homework," Dorothea invites herself in and sits on the bed. Edelgard's unmade bed, at that. Of course the one day she doesn't make her bed, Dorothea invites herself into it.

Not like that. Well, slightly like that. It's complicated. Edelgard doesn't want to think too much about it before a prerequisite 3 cups of coffee.

Dorothea continues talking over the speaker blaring music, fiddling with her hair until it's in a perfectly cascading ponytail through the back of the baseball cap she's wearing. She filched it from the supply cupboard one day, after Edelgard asked her to help tidy up the sport equipment. She's not even on the baseball team, but she looked so happy that Edelgard would have rather eaten glass then taken it off her. She's worn it ever since.

Edelgard sits in her desk chair and starts doodling flowers up the side of her notes, ears half open to Dorothea’s chatter. This small morning routine was a reprieve from her standard self-imposed studying isolation. 

"Well, what do you say, Edie?" Her friend looks at her with wide eyes, clearly expecting an affirming answer.

Shit. 

Edelgard takes a shot in the dark. "Sure. Sounds good."

"You didn't listen to a word I said, did you?” Dorothea smiles at her, she probably didn’t deserve that. “You're always overworking yourself Edie, you look exhausted." Dorothea's eyes turned softer and she leans across the small dorm room to brush Edelgard's hair behind her ear. "I will hold you to that answer though." Her eyes, so close to Edelgard's own turn bright.

"I said - for those of us who write more essays than hours they sleep - that we have 5 weeks of nothing but each other's company here at the monastery. And I've got a car, a licence, and enough momentum to do something interesting. So do you fancy going on a road trip?"

A road Trip. 5 weeks in a car. As much of Fodlan as they could cram in, nothing with them but dust on open roads and fritzy radio signal.

A road trip with Dorothea.

Edelgard might just die.

(but what a way for her to kick it)

Edelgard dragged her heart from where it was currently resting in the bottom of her socks. “But there’s homework – "

“Which you’ve already done, I can see it on your desk.”

“We have studying to do, especially you with your History grade – "

“Ooh! We’ll visit some landmarks and I’ll write an extension essay on them!”

“You mean _I’ll _write an essay on them on your behalf, Dorothea?”

“I’ll graciously let you help me, naturally.” Dorothea flopped herself back onto Edelgard’s pillow. “Haven’t you wanted to see the world outside the big cities, Edie? To go where people won’t recognise you. Where you don’t have any kind of responsibility or reputation to keep on your shoulders?”

That made Edelgard pause.

Dorothea pounced, fishing a map out her purple bag and tossing it into Edelgard’s lap. “The places in red are city places you might like – galleries and museums and whatnot, and the places in blue are natural beauty spots. The places in purple are things that I thought seemed ‘off the beaten track’ and interesting enough to visit. The orange ones are - "

This must have taken hours of planning to do – and colour code – and here she was, toeing the line of giving a flimsy excuse instead of throwing some underwear and a coat in a rucksack and hotfooting it to the passenger door of the car.

Edelgard couldn’t really remember the last time someone went to such lengths to spend time with her.

Not even Hubert would want to spend 5 weeks in a car with her.

Edelgard handed the map back, grabbed her backpack and emptied it onto her desk.

“Keys, money, phone, phone charger, spare charger, battery pack.” She started throwing the listed items back into the back, her back to Dorothea’s shock. “Have you got a camera? Petra has mine still.”

“Wait, you’re.. You really want to do this?”

“You’re my best friend, Dorothea” She absolutely didn’t stumble over the word friend, the heir to the Adrestian fortune does not _stumble _over words. “And it sounds.. fun.” She sticks her head in the wardrobe, grabbing the abominable red and silver academy -issued cagoule from its depths. “And if I were to do any such road trip, I think you’d be perhaps the only person to tolerate my company.”

From somewhere outside the wardrobe, she heard Dorothea laugh.

“You mean I’m the only one that lets you loose in art galleries?” Her laughter glowed through her words. Dorothea was the only one that didn’t either try argue with her rambling analysis, or bodily drag her out the gallery when she got a bit carried away.

“We will be seeing all those galleries, you know. It’s not too late to uninvite me”

“Of course, of course Edie. I do have some questions about this, though.” A flash of pink hit Edelgard’s peripheral and she whirled around to find Dorothea holding her _very_ well hidden swimming costume.

It was going to be a long few weeks.


	2. Car Park

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they aren't even on the road yet and Edie is already breaking down more than the shitty little vauxhall corsa they're sat in.  
  
_ To her delight he looked good in the daylight / Usually left her home by sunrise ___ Looked Good in the Daylight - Black Market Rhythm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, sipping champagne out a glass shaped like a wellington boot: character development and consistency is a myth and i don't subscribe to it
> 
> ( you are, of course, welcome to image any song you like at the end of the chapter but it was written with 'looked good in the daylight' by black market rhythm in mind )

They made it to the fishing shed before Edelgard remembered she wanted her spare dagger.

They made it to the car door handles before Dorothea remembered she hadn’t packed any shoes.

They had actually sat down in the car before they both remembered they should lock their dorm windows.

Dorothea has bought her car very second hand, Edelgard knew, because the CD player looked be more recovery spells than technology when it first turned up in the monastery car park. She also knew because Dorothea told her exactly how little it cost her to buy.

The idea of sitting in the shitty little red vauxhall corsa for 5 weeks had Edelgard just toeing the knife edge of apprehensive. They had detoured to the library and taken out a few mechanic manuals on extended loan, in case the car broke down.

_"Which it won't do, Edie, it hasn't failed me yet,"_

_"That's not an indication of whether it will fail in the future, Dorothea."_

If the books proved worthless, she could always take a swing at the thing with a spanner. That felt like a decent fail-safe. They had too much to see to afford a breakdown, and the idea of hitchhiking was not one that bared contemplation. 

More pressingly, Hubert would ensure neither of them would know peace if they got stranded at the side of the road.

“Oh, will you relax Edie, I’ve been only planning this for weeks!”

“And I’ve only been planning it for 40 minutes! Have you got socks?”

“You saw me pack them not 10 minutes ago, I’ve got socks.” Dorothea threw her arm in the foot well behind the driver’s seat trying to hook her map.

Edelgard reclined in the cheap leather seat, sounding off on her fingers. “We have shirts, socks, underwear, shorts, a nice dress in case we do something fancy, chargers, phones, money, map, hideous cagoules, swimwear – why do we need swimwear?”

“In case we fancy frolicking through the deep snow of Faerghus, why do you think Edie?” Dorothea strained, with half her body across the gearbox, rooting around the luggage for the map. “Have you seen my map anywhere?”

“You don’t have it?” Edelgard raised an eyebrow, the other quickly followed at Dorothea’s contorted position, head in the foot well, her behind, well, right in front of Edelgard. “That cannot be comfortable.” 

Dorothea rolled over – on the gearbox – like a rotisserie chicken, hand poised under her chin. “Like what you see?” she fluttered her eyelashes. Her shirt fabric was caught under her and Edelgard catches a flash of red underwear before flicking her eyes through the dirty glass window screen.

“Have you found the map, Dorothea?” Edelgard swings straight for deadpan, staring holes through the glass.

“I think I might have left it in your bed.”

Edelgard makes the trip to retrieve it. She might even find her will to chill whilst she’s there.

Who is she kidding, she's never had chill. At least, none since Dorothea came to the academy, but she's not allowed to think about that before 3 cups of coffee, damn it.

Edelgard slides back into the passenger seat, map in hand, another bag in other hand. “How we left this on my pillow, I don’t know. I also brought my snack stash” She shakes the bag a bit, letting the contents prove themselves as various wrappers.

Dorothea’s expression went wide “We should probably take some food, shouldn’t we?”

“It’s only 11 o’clock, I think we can wait for lunch – oh. Road Trip Food.”

The Road Trip had started to become capitalised in her head. It felt appropriate to scale. She dug in her pocket for her keys.

“Right, take this and go to the dining hall, and get as much bread as you can.” Edelgard placed the bag on Dorothea's lap and wiggled her way out the car. “I’m off to the library again, meet you by the pier in 20 minutes.”

Dorothea caught the keys she tossed. “Why the library?”

“We should take some books with us - history books, art books, ’10 mushrooms that won’t kill you’ books.”

“And why bread?” Dorothea called from halfway over the car park

“Grab anything, then.”

Dorothea’s cheery laughter rang through the grounds

They had made it to the other side of the wrought iron gates of the monastery when Edelgard decided this might be the time she'd prefer to beg forgiveness than ask permission for breaking petty rules.The driveway curled down the hill, giving a wide view of the sprawling city around Garreg Mach. The midday sunlight lit up the dusty yellow bricks of the city, and glared into the windscreen of the little red car. With every glimpse of the academy further behind them, the burning hot lodged in Edelgard's chest grew brighter and bolder, laughter and song lyrics bubbling out of her lungs. 

Dorothea smiled brighter, and turned up the CD, yelling the words out the window in equal measure.

They were 15 minutes gone from Garreg Mach when Dorothea said "Don't worry about only telling Professor Byleth, I told Manuela last week about the trip. She said to visit the art gallery in the old city in Fhirdiad, apparently it's got some of the oldest opera drafts in Fodlàn on display. Actually, she even gave me a healing tome and some medical supplies to bring with us."

"Hold on, since when did you start calling Professor Casagranda by her name?"

"Edie, we have tea every other weekend. Surely you know this?"

( In the boot there is a tent (filched from the academy school trip supply cupboard), a tool kit (borrowed from Ferdinand), a picnic blanket (borrowed from Bernadetta), Dorothea’s guitar, violin, and music sheets, a couple of books from their holiday reading list (borrowed by Dorothea last week from Linhardt’s own library), a handful of library books about mechanics and mushrooms, Dorothea’s clothes, Edelgard’s clothes, Edie’s baseball bat because Dorothea refused to have an axe in her car, Dorothea's magic tomes, a variety of emergency medical supplies from Manuela, a 6 pack of water bottles, and a fishing line Byleth handed to them as they made the third trip to the car. Also a pair of mismatched socks that might belong to Petra, they don’t really know. )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (edit: i got manuela's name wrong i'm a fake fan and a fake gay)


	3. Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> physical headway on The Road Trip is made. emotional headway? absolutely not.  
  
_ Sail away, kill off the hours / You belong somewhere you feel free ___Wildflowers - Tom Petty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i lied about canon compliance. it's more.. canon parallel line?  
turns out vauxhall corsas don't have audio jacks. i don't know this and i drive this car, i feel i should specify.  
also tenses are ridiculous, the passage of time is a relative concept and i hereby declare it fake.

Somewhere between ‘Dorothea and I alone for 5 weeks’ and ‘I'm not letting you put that axe in my car, Edie’, Edelgard managed to forget how much Dorothea talks with her hands.

She _remembered_ how much Dorothea talks with hands somewhere between her friend making a sweeping gesture in a funny story, and Edelgard throwing herself sideways to grab the steering wheel, and the screaming that followed the car along the road into the nearest layby.

The ride into the service stop is silent.

"Are we going to talk about that?"

"Do we need to, Dorothea? We were both there, we know what we did."

"Fair point."

Edelgard has decided she could live a happy life if she never hears the croon of Buddy Holly again.

They cave into buying an audio jack in a bizarre little odd-shop in the motorway services after exhausting Dorothea’s ‘Car CD Collection’ of a ‘Car Singing’ mix she made, 5 operas and the so-called ‘Best of Buddy Holly’. Dorothea had immediately vetoed Edelgard’s CDs, claiming she’d rather give up music entirely than willingly put on a Pop Party CD.

Which, there’s nothing wrong with Pop Party CDs. Edelgard likes compilation albums. They're a very efficient way of listening to music.

Dorothea looked gleeful as she plugged her music player in. “Now we’re really rolling, Edie.”

"I would agree, the Buddy Holly was a backwards step." she said, making a show of inspecting her gloves. She smiled as Dorothea roll her eyes.

“You're lucky I made a whole Road Trip Playlist”, Dorothea poked the play button and turned back onto the road, the first few twangs of guitar blasting through the car sound system.

“_Do you do, do you remember / When we drove, we drove, drove through the night -_ “

The music choice hit her with surprise. “Since when did Dorothea Arnault – opera singer to the stars - listen to fall out boy?" Edelgard's brow furrowed. "Ferdinand listens to fall out boy. I listen fall out boy.”

“I know you do Edie, you brood, so naturally you listen to fall out boy.”

“I do not brood.”

“of course you brood, it’s just what you do. Besides, It was you who recommended I listen to them.”

Edelgard blinked. “You remember that?”

Dorothea's smile turned soft at the corners. "Why would I ever forget?" 

When they get hungry, they pull in to a field of sunflowers just north of Arianrhod. If she squints, Edelgard can see the hulking stone fortress over the far plains. 

Over lukewarm coffee and the pilfered food from the dining hall 3 hours behind them, Dorothea lays a second, blank map on the hood of the car.

“I thought we’d start in Faerghus, work our way down to the Alliance, and through to Enbarr and then back in time for Byleth’s pop quiz on Monday morning.” If we head toward the mountains left of Tailtean, we can make our way through to Fhirdiad and follow the coast." She follows the large road lines with her finger, the sunlight catching in her green-lensed glasses.

It sounded equal parts wonderful and terrifying. 

Dorothea mutters about road exits and travel times, probably very important information. She scrunches up her nose to adjust her reading glasses, which Edelgard thinks is far more important to know. Even though she watches Dorothea do this in every single seminar.

Anyway.

Dorothea's annotated map marks a motel 5 hours drive, just west of Gideon, for them to head towards. Edelgard insists on taking over driving for the next leg, citing fairness and equality and better night vision than Dorothea. She then sat herself in the drivers seat of the car and refused to move, crossing her legs on the dashboard for good measure.

Dorothea collapsed into the passenger side in peels of laughter, and it was a few minutes before Edelgard can stop giggling long enough to start the car.

Dorothea took a few essential pictures of the flower field. They needed to break the news that they were on the Road Trip to the rest of the Eagles somehow after all. 

A picture of Edelgard flipping off the general direction of the Arianrhod fortress gets sent to the group chat, along with the message “on road trip, see you assholes next term”

The picture of Dorothea doing a star jump in the flowers gets saved to Edelgard’s phone.

"I quite like this song." Edelgard feels her shoulders fall as the guitar strums though the speakers.

Dorothea turns up the volume.

_"You belong among the wildflowers / You belong in a boat out at sea ... "_

Edie grips the wheel a little tighter, white gloves wrinkled against the faded leather.

“... Do I really brood?”

“Like a chicken, Edie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no i technically don’t ‘need’ to headcanon the wonderful dorothea fire emblem as dyslexic in every fic i write, but guess what, i absolutely will do this and neither nintendo nor the government can stop me


	4. maps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps, just a by a tad, her crush on Edie was getting a bit out of hand. Oh, who was she kidding, Dorothea was falling in love faster than a thoron tome could fry her.
> 
> _ No. 4 Concerto in F minor RV 297 "Winter": II. Largo · Antonio Vivaldi ___

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, slapping the top of Dorothea's car: this bad bitch can fit so much mutual pining in it
> 
> i might have trojan horse'd the angst a bit. light spoilers for specifically Dorothea's backstory, but if you're reading this I figure you already know about it. 
> 
> (also fuck canon my school now. edie's been at the academy for 2 years from spring, dorothea a year and a half in the autumn intake)

Home was somewhere to take your shoes off, Dorothea's mother always liked to tell her. 

Obviously, she's not marching around the Eagles' common room with her nail varnish on display. Her mother meant it was somewhere she could sit down and not expect to be called upon at a moments notice.   
Dorothea has more than one childhood memory of her mother wearing shoes to bed. 

Since coming to study at the academy, she had collected small little pockets that felt like home - her dorm room was cosy enough, Manuela's office was always open for a cup of tea, her favourite music room that overlooked sports fields, and the Eagles spent more time together in their classroom than the day had hours of sunlight. 

Edie's room was always somewhere she could take her shoes off, too. 

It's not that she doesn't like her life there - the monastery is a truly beautiful place to exist in. It's just, after a year and a half, it still doesn't feel like a place she lives in. There's something about the monastery that feels so distant from her, but cloying enough that if she doesn't get out into the surrounding city every so often, she might just bound off the walls. 

So when the term started dwindling down towards the 5 weeks of holiday, Dorothea started thinking of places she could be instead of spending 5 weeks Music Room C.

She didn’t invite Edelgard von Hresvelg on a 5 week road trip with the intention of sleeping with her, despite what the ribbing from Sylvain and Ingrid might suggest.

Dorothea invited her friend on a 5 week road trip around Fodlan because she’s only ever seen Edie laugh, properly laugh, once. It was about 3 in the morning on their way back to the dorms after the winter ball last year, when Dorothea shucked her heels off and waltzed them down the corridor for the purpose of making her smile.

Because Edie’s face lights up like the sun the second she locks eyes on an art gallery. Also because there's a large exhibition of Edie's favourite Faerghus Renaissance painter in Fhirdiad, and Dorothea, oh so selfishly, wants to be the one to take her.

Because maybe if they left all the serious business of the academy, the training grounds, the towering church buildings and the ever growing danger of the battle field, then she might get to hear Edie laugh without boundaries or burdens again.

Also because going on a 5 week road trip with the woman she’s been falling for, for the last year and a half, seems like a fantastic way to cement her authority as the disaster bisexual of the year.

Truth be told, she wasn't exactly expecting Edie to start throwing things into a rucksack and burning a path to the car park less than 10 minutes after suggesting the whole thing. They hadn't even decided a destination for the first day when they drove out of Garreg Mach in the vague direction of Faerghus.

The spiraling exhilaration of leaving the monastery sits different to the jolting anticipation of the stage curtains opening, but she feels the same aching smile on her face. Edie rolled the windows down and started belting out song lyrics like her life depended on it, and Dorothea spent the next 3 minutes trying to keep her eyes on the road and not on the wild grin lit by the morning sun.

The destination wasn't really the important part of this trip. 

(she's gone, she's so gone)

Edie hates Buddy Holly. This amuses Dorothea immensely, and she waits until Edie's paying for the aux chord to sneak download a few of his best hits to their Road Trip Playlist.

She's been curating this playlist for the last month, and it's full of Edie's terrible music taste. Not that she's particularly a music snob, music is an art that lends itself to self-projection, and Dorothea isn't about to pass judgement on that at all. But good Goddess, Edie has terrible music taste. Dorothea is half convinced that those who willingly listen to Pop Party CDs are a little beyond saving.

Edie doesn't exactly smile for music, but Dorothea sees her shoulders fall and her frown relax, and her eyes squint just a little bit less.

Somehow it's even more beautiful.

"Dorothea, I'm sure I don't need to impress that the safety of Lady Edelgard is paramount and precedes all other goals, issues and needs the either of you may have." Hubert's threats crackle over speaker phone, Edie's mobile is upside down in the cup holder. They had long since pulled over so Edie could devote proper attention to telling Hubie how decidedly not-dead-yet she is.

It's been 27 minutes. Hubie is not yet satisfied they aren't planning on going full Thelma and Louise.

Drastic action it is.

"Our needs? Hubie if you're planning on giving us a birds and bees talk, you could have at at least sent us a preemptive text."

Edie turned as red as her house leader cloak, and Hubert finally stops talking.

"Great chat, we'll keep in touch, love you, bye Hubie - " Dorothea chatters, hanging up the phone before Hubert can stop spluttering.

Dorothea pretends not to notice how Edie's blush doesn't fade until they get to the motel.

The motel is exactly as shitty as she hoped it would be; flickering vacancy lights out front and drab grey car park round the back. The room is a tiny two-bed affair with a tiny ensuite and a veneer wood wardrobe that Dorothea dumps her bag in the vicinity of before crashing face first into the pink sheets.

“I’m afraid I’m a bit sceptical of the exact cleanliness of these sheets.” The very princess to the Adrestian Empire still has her rucksack slung over her shoulder, looking a few seconds away from wringing her hands in consternation.

Oh Edie, your nobility is showing.

“It’s a motel, Edie,” Dorothea drawls, flipping over to chuckle at her. "I'm pretty sure these places aren't meant to be clean." She threw her hat in the vague direction of her bag.

Edie lies her bag on the floor and sits, neatly on the edge of the bed. A few seconds later she flops sideways and starts laughing into the dusty sheets.

"We really just up and left, didn't we?"

Dorothea laughs at the little lump of her friend on the end of the bed. "Frankly I'm still half expecting Ferdie to march in and tell us we're wanted for choir practice."

Edie rolls onto her back, legs dangling off the end of the bed. "He asked us to pick him up some key rings, by the way."

Dorothea gives a decidedly unladylike snort.

Dorothea wakes up with her face plastered against the pillow, the yellow morning light showing up how dusty the room was.

The soft flick of pages turning draws her attention to the other bed, where she finds Edie sat hunched over a history book, conditioner in her hair, wrapped up in her small white towel.

Dorothea chalks this up to an attempt on her life and shoves her face back into the pillow, desperately willing her blush to stop roaring in her ears.

“Good morning Dorothea, I trust you slept well.” She hears Edie flip another page.

Dorothea blindly wonders if she even slept, that's 3 books open on the her bed. 

“Fine thanks” she says into the pillow.

“The bathroom is free if you would like to shower, I leave my conditioner in for a while. I need to wait another 20 minutes, which makes effective time management if you’d like to use the bathroom.” Another page turns.

“Wait, how long do you leave conditioner in?”

“About half an hour.”

Edelgard von Hresvelg has been sat in a short fluffy white towel in the next bed. For 10 whole minutes.

Dorothea officially classifies this as murder with intent, and tries very much not to look at the drops of water still resting on Edie’s skin whilst fumbling her way to the bathroom.  
She fails miserably, and instead opts for softly bashing her head against the lurid green shower tiles.

Over burning hot tea and sad cheese sandwiches from the vending machine in the motel rec room, they plan their route into Rowe and another city Dorothea couldn't read if you paid her. Why map fonts insisted on being more squiggle than letter was beyond her. 

They’re back in the car for 3 and a half minutes when Dorothea kicked her shoes off.

Edie spluttered out protests from the driver's seat, Dorothea laughed at her indigently scrunched up brow.

"You saw me have a shower this morning, they're perfectly clean. I've still got my socks on."

"It's the propriety of it! Put your shoes on, Dorothea."

They bickered their way through 2 motorway junctions.

They break from the motorway to see Rowe, the city that grew off of Arianrhod and sprawled its way up the mountain range towards a city name that Dorothea couldn’t have read out loud at lance point.

They switch seats in a dusty little lay-by on the side of the road. Edie sounds off directions and guides Dorothea to drive down the various junctions and roads.

They only got lost once, and that was because they made the mistake of using her scribbled over sightseeing map instead of the road map that still has legible junctions.

The museum’s exterior is made of the same towering grey brick as the rest of the border city, but the interior is made of that post-secession gilt golden age boom Edie keeps telling her facts about. Dorothea remembers there’s high vaulted hallways and columns that split at the ceiling like tree branches involved, but Edie’s much better at the facts than she is. At the least, she’s managed to pick up that it’s aesthetically similar but historically opposite to the Mittlefrank opera.

Edie’s laugh sounds halfway between fond and exasperated as she walks them towards the layout of the building to best plan their attack.

“I like to start on the top floor and work my way down, which means I don’t miss any rooms by blindly wandering upwards.”

“I’m sure Professor Byleth would approve of your strategising.” Dorothea nabs one of the paper maps of the place as they head for the stairs.

"Edie, I think this guide is in Almyran."

"How.. No matter, I can tell you about the exhibit on this floor if you like? It's one of the strongest collection of rural paintings in Fhirdiad - "

Dorothea would take her to every art gallery in Fodlàn if it meant Edie would smile like that forever - bright eyes and almost breathless with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally this fic lives up to the second half of its name huh
> 
> (i picked up a museum map in spanish, and my english then-unlabeled-dyslexic brain happily looked it for a decent few minutes before my friend pointed it out to me)
> 
> (quick note: i'm still writing the next 2/3 chapters, i just have Real Life stuff going on! thank you for your patience <3 )


	5. Rowe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the real slow burn here is edelgard/art galleries (i may have forgotten she's not ignatz)  
  
_"Wake up to the sound of your fleeting heart / When you go, what you leave is a work of art"_ Featherstone -The Paper Kites__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the patience! real life came knocking at the door ;( 
> 
> This is less “world building” and more “cramming canon and real life into a microwave, seasoning liberally, wrapping with tin foil and blowing it up to good frack above.

They're up with the sunrise and start racing it west as they head towards Rowe. Burnt and boiling coffee sat safely ensconced in the cup holders, the wind rushing in the open windows and tangling her damp hair. They had the whole day ahead of them.

Edelgard could very easily get used to living like this. 

(Living like the only thing she needed to care about was sat in the passenger seat with her shoes off.)

They sit in silence, but it's nice. It's a companionable quiet. It's also just before 7am and Edelgard is fairly certain Dorothea has fallen back asleep; her hat askew and hand trailing out the window like a dog's tongue. 

Edelgard drives a little slower. They have time, today.

"Is this alright, Edie?" Dorothea blurts out, as they left the roundabout that forked over to Gideon. "I mean it's not exactly comfortable to travel around like this, between shitty motels and everything, and I -."

Edelgard shoots a smile at her, eyes still fixed through the windscreen. "Dorothea, please, I'm quite aware of what I signed up for. Besides," she breathes out a laugh, "Road Trips aren't meant to be the height of luxury. I didn't think we brought tents and blankets for show."

Dorothea falls back into the passenger seat, and grins at her. Edelgard doesn't even need to look at her to know it. "Good, because I'm afraid there's a sudden lack of motels on the route up to Tailtean, so we’ll be camping for a few days.”

"As long as it's not like that school trip, I think we'll be fine."

"Honestly, how Lin and Ferdie slept with their tent inside out, I still don't know."

Rowe was an industrial city near the western church, which built its way out of the landscape much like Arianrhod. The buildings were built with great blocks of ashen grey rising high above the flat tarmac streets. It looked, somewhat, like a greyscale of the northern side of city surrounding the academy. It looked cold outside, it was Faerghus - it was freezing. But the street markets calling out sales for crab apple cider and fresh black bread, the busy traffic lights and the streets lined with blacksmiths and tome-smiths made the city look lived in, warm and real.

It was nothing like Enbarr or Garreg Mach, and for that, Edelgard thought it was beautiful.

The top floor of the car park overlooked the blocked city, and they left their car in the sunshine.

“So we’re up in the north, It looks like it’s more of a banking and residential area.” Edelgard unraveled the city map from the little guidebook they picked up at a service station as Dorothea fumbled down her backpack for her glasses. 

Edelgard jabbed at the map with her glove. "If we wander over to the gallery here, then find a cafe for lunch, and take a look into the old church and the other few places you marked down, that should take us up to about 5ish, and we set off again towards the campsite?"

"Sounds like a plan. This big street must be the market place, with the square at the end. That's on the way to the gallery, if you can stand to wait a little longer?"

"I won't keel over if I'm not in an art gallery, Dorothea, please." Edelgard locked the car behind her, her friend balancing one foot on the car to tie her trainers up.

"Oh, can you please say that again? I need hard evidence for Hubie. "

Edelgard rolled her eyes, trying to keep the smile off her face.

The Rowe Gallery of Arts was a monolith of dark grey stone and white washed columns, towering 4 stories and a rooftop café above the pavement. The black iron frame windows caught the afternoon sun, shining it into their eyes as they climbed the massive stone steps to the front door.

The outside was almost brutalist, but the inside was like stepping into a mirror image of Enbarr and it's highest extravagances – gold plastered columns and vaulted ceilings, wide windows from floor to ceiling. Edelgard had read a handful of works about the parallel aesthetics of the Enbarr and Faerghus, how the Empire used its dwindling wealth on luxuries, and the Kingdom's economic boom allowed the construction of so many beautiful buildings. Aesthetically similar, but so very different at heart. The soft gold and ivory colours felt deceivingly alike to the city she grew up in, even down to the click of her shoes on the cold stone floor.

Dorothea looked as lightly disorientated as she felt, which gave Edelgard a very comfortable excuse to slip her arm through hers like they were promenading Regency ladies as they made their way across to the stairs.

Dorothea seemed to stand a little taller on her arm. Edelgard counted it as a success. 

(success for what? it doesn't matter. Dorothea looked happy and that's the important thing here.)

“Turner is that famous one, isn’t he?”

Edelgard smiled back at her, “Yes, Professor Hanneman mentioned him in a lecture. He painted landscapes within the time that the natural world was held as a gift from the Goddess, when the city around Garreg Mach started industrialising. It's said his paintings can be seen as a reactionary stance to it. I think they’re just through here –“

No amount of text books could have prepared her for seeing the delicacy of the boat sails and wisps of white cloud in person. The way the light hit the sea and sky, in a beautiful mess of colour.

She didn’t even realise how much she was smiling til her cheeks started aching.

After 40 minutes making her way around each and every picture in the room, Edelgard wanted to check back in on Dorothea – make sure she was at least somewhat enjoying herself as well. It wouldn’t do to potentially drag an unwilling participant around Fodlàn's art galleries, and certainly not start off on a bad foot here.

“Is this all right, Dorothea? I don’t wish to bore you at all, so – “

“Edie, did you really think I’d set foot in here if I didn’t want do? I’m more than happy here. I’ve not really seen many landscapes like this.” Dorothea smiled up at her – her smile was unusually sweet – from the wooden bench in the room. “Do you know anything about this one?”

The painting spanned almost the entire wall, and the huge golden fame almost brushed the ceiling. Edie blinked, “Not at all, I’m afraid. It’s – that’s huge.”

Dorothea’s light laugh filled the gallery space. “Eloquent as always, Edie.”

Edelgard crossed her arms over the back of the bench, aiming for casual and missing it by what felt like several nautical miles.

(But what was really 2 and a half inches of personal space)

Her elbow landed in right next to Dorothea's shoulder, just enough to kiss her soft plaid over-shirt. Just near enough to catch the sugar sweet floral perfume. Just too near enough to kick start their unsung game of Personal Space Chicken.

Shit.

“Do you like this one? It’s certainly impressive.” Smooth delivery, benign content, a perfectly fine conversation. Edelgard has got this under control.

Dorothea smiled at the painting, “I think so. There’s so much information to process I thought I’d stay and look at it for a bit so I didn’t miss any of it.”

“That’s a sensible idea, actually. What part are you looking at now?” Edelgard was looking in the direction of the picture and wasn't seeing a single bit of brushstroke because Dorothea had leaned, ever so gently, to rest her shoulder against Edelgard's elbow.

She was warm and solid against her arm. Edelgard suddenly felt very self-conscious about how sharp her elbows might be.

Dorothea was talking at her. Dorothea was talking about art at her. 

Edelgard von Hresvelg was thinking about her bony elbows.

“- like the way the light hits tree over on the left there. The yellow in the leaves matches the bricks on the other side. I rather like the detail of it.”

"It's beautiful" Edelgard blurted, absolutely interrupting her friend and pretending she was not thinking about how Dorothea was very warm next to her arm.

"I think it rather is." Dorothea beamed at the painting - Edelgard still hadn't paid it a lick of attention. That wasn't the important part, the Important Part was that Dorothea had patted her arm (so gently) and had come around the safety of the wooden bench to stand just as close, her arm pressed right up against Edelgard's cotton baseball shirt, their feet neatly aligned with each other

Naturally, that must have been Dorothea's mistaken casual lean, just as Edelgard herself had miscalculated. Of course. Better put the matter to bed and end awkward dancing around each other before it even starts.

Edelgard certainly did not power-walk away from the bench and into the next room. She walks this briskly every day. All the time, even. "Have you seen the one in the corner? The castle against the light orange sky, I can't decide if it reminds me more of Arianrhod or Garreg Mach?"

"Maybe let's not take the cathedral-to-military-fortress comparison back to the Archbishop, Edie."

(And maybe she lost that round of Personal Space Chicken.)

By the time they had made their way down to the 2nd floor, they had established their own little routine. Edelgard would flit around the room as she liked, Dorothea liked to pick a picture or two to study completely, and Edelgard would check in every so often.

It was nice.

(It was more than nice.)

(It was so much more than nice, but that didn't bear thinking about.)

Edelgard is collecting post cards of her favourite paintings when she sees it.

The star atlas sits in the back of the museum gift shop. It’s slightly dusty, and the cover is a bit battered, and there’s an orange discount sticker on the top right hand corner.

Dorothea is nowhere to be seen.

Edelgard walks out the shop 4 minutes later with 17 post cards, a book of constellations, a lighter wallet, and a rather saccharine plan spinning in her head.

"Find your postcards?" Dorothea pops into her peripheral vision like lightning, nodding at the paper bag in her hands.

"Yes, I got a few of the Constable. So, Lunch?" Edelgard briskly, even by her standards, her heart beating out of her chest. She tempers it with a small smile, and Dorothea takes up her offered arm. 

They head together towards the exit, the atlas burning in her rucksack. 

Perhaps running to the cover of the car park, with an academy cagoule thrown over their heads, was not the most dignified moment of Edelgard's life.

Dorothea's loud laughter, however, made the entire thing worth it.

“What a welcome to Faerghus this weather is.” Edelgard snapped her seatbelt on and tossed the rain-covered coat to the depths of the back seat.  
"I hope this clears off soon, we're camping tonight." Dorothea said, grabbing the back of Edelgard's seat to reverse the car.

"We have a ground sheet, right?“

"Providing it's wrapped up in the tent bundle? Yes, we have a ground sheet."

It could be worse. They could not have a tent at all.

Hubert was going to have a conniption.

"Is this playlist labelled ‘Road Trip Playlist 2: The One With Actual Music’... And a string of emoticons?"

Dorothea gave a short laugh, hair catching the cold cloud-covered sunlight. “This is the last time I let Ingrid into my playlists."

Edelgard narrowed her eyes at her friend, "But you don't think it's an incorrect title?" 

"I think the emoticons are irrelevant." A smirk ghosted across Dorothea's lips. 

They bickered their way out of Rowe and onto the heavy traffic of the motorway.

The signs heading back into Rowe had just petered out when Edelgard pressed play on the first track. If Dorothea had refused to let her shuffle the other Road Trip Playlist, she figured this one was of similar ilk.

Dorothea's face lit up immediately "_ooh Edie do you know what that's worth, ooh heaven is a place on earth_"

"How did you chime in so quickly, it's literally a drum beat?"

“_We'll make heaven a place on earth_ – It’s a good song, Edie!”

It turned out that Dorothea had very good music collection. However, Edelgard decided to not admit to this until Dorothea apologised for the Pop Party CD tirade. It was a matter of principal. 

They had been stuck in traffic for the last hour and a half, and the rain clattering overhead the entire time. The weather forecast on her phone seemed to be as sketchy as the radio signal they had tuned into for the traffic news. 

"Intermittent showers, by the fracking goddess is it an intermittent shower." Dorothea let her head drop onto the steering wheel.

“We already know we’re leaving the road at junction 14, so we may as well put the music back on,” Edelgard sat back up and started browsing through the playlist. “Any requests?”

Dorothea shook her head, her hair still shining in the grim grey weather. “Oh, anything upbeat. This rain is gloomy enough as is.”

Edelgard kept scrolling down the vast list of music. There was one song that sounded a bit like sunlight, perfect contrast to the rain.

“_I would like to reach out my hand / I may see you, I may tell you to run (on my way, on my way)”_

Edelgard looked over, fully expecting to see one of Dorothea’s instant hitting bright smiles. But Dorothea was looking at her with some unreadable expression on her face that looked, she would swear it, like she –

No. Don’t be ridiculous, Edelgard.

But, she if she didn’t know better - and she did know better - it felt for all the world that Dorothea had looked at her like her mother once did her father. Like every synonym she could shake out from the romance novels she read when the palace tutors weren't looking. A mixture of incredulous and reflective and too many other emotions Edelgard could think to name.

Dorothea looked at her like she could fall in love.

In love with her.

Edelgard snapped her gaze back to the music player “How about we make a sunshine themed playlist? It might bring the sunlight back out.” she said, shoving as much of her brusque battlefield authority as she could into a friendly conversation about music.

The Sunshine Playlist – also named with emoticons – kept them busy chatting, Dorothea singing along, and Edelgard looking steadfast at the music player and not Dorothea’s face, just in case.

They found the campsite after 5 hours, 3 wrong turns and a few good guesses.   
It was still bucketing down.   
The car steadfast refused to go more than two wheels into the muddy field, which frankly Edelgard considered a sensible move on its part.

'We could,' Dorothea tapped each of her fingers against the wheel in turn, 'just kip in the car for the night. Unless you're any better at putting up tents than I am?'

Edelgard remembered very acutely how Bernadetta and herself had agonised over the tent on the academy camping trip. Where it took them a good 2 hours of daylight to put up a 2 person tent. 

"Perhaps the car would be best." Edelgard said faintly.

It would be fine. 

She'd be fine. 

(Because chronic nightmares don't happen if you sleep in a vehicle, obviously.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so most any song lyric with 'baby' can be replaced with 'edie' for the edelthea agenda huh. 
> 
> meta notes? more like visual references:  
The exhibition they see is based on Turner and Constable and Havell, the British landscape artists. My art history is a bit rough and ready, but the line i was going for was 'painters who focus on nature, especially a reaction to increasing urbanisation, the whole nature is a gift from god theme, and a nod to the picturesque.' Very Strong recommendation to check out the Tate gallery via website and in person! (I think both the Tate Britain and the National Gallery London display Turner and Constable.) 
> 
> The painting Dorothea was looking at wasn't meant to be anything in particular, just based off a giant landscape I saw a few years back in the National Gallery in London. Edelgard saw the paintings 'The Fighting Temeraire' and 'Caernarvon Castle' by Turner.
> 
> The gallery is very very loosely inspired by the Kunsthistorisches Museum in Vienna. It's not brutalist architecture in the slightest, but the inside is jaw-dropping if you like gilt staircases.  
(actually, the 'Faerghus renaissance painter' Dorothea mentioned last chapter is a nod to Bruegel, a lot of his work is in Vienna. i Can and Will shove my 15th century north european art interest into every facet of my life.) 
> 
> I really wasn't kidding about the art gallery part of this fic. don't worry, I'm only going to get worse :D Remember when I said i was blowing up history in a microwave? Nothing i mention has any real world political significance in this fic. i'm literally making up the (art) history of Fodlàn as i go along. :^)
> 
> I don't know if the game mentions Rowe in more detail than 'Ashe lives there', but the aesthetic here is *very* loosely inspired by Birmingham & Cardiff! Big grey pavements, really. (I kid, Cardiff is a great city.)
> 
> hang fire for the next installment of 'more pining than a christmas tree sale', I'm off working/WWOOFing for October & won't have much time to write :( not so much a hiatus, because believe me i can't stop thinking about how much i love this little fic of mine :) see y'all soon!


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